


Flyover

by htbthomas



Category: Forever (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Crossover, Forever Ficathon, Gen, Light Case Fic, Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:59:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htbthomas/pseuds/htbthomas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is that a... handprint?" Jo asks. She gets closer. "Almost <i>burned</i> into the cement?"</p><p>Henry rises, brushing off his trousers. "I believe so. At least a partial one."</p><p>Henry shakes his head in true amazement. In his 235 years of life, he's seen just about everything. But never this. If he's right...</p><p>"You have a theory," Jo says, lowering her voice.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>AKA, Henry and Jo visit National City.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Flyover

**Author's Note:**

> I've placed _Supergirl_ in the same universe as _Arrow_ and _The Flash_ , though knowing those shows isn't necessary.
> 
> This story also assumes Jo has learned and accepted Henry's secret.
> 
> Thanks to LadySilver for the beta, as usual!

Henry crouches low to the pavement. His gloved fingers brush the edges of the bootprint, and he frowns. For what first appears to be a simple mugging, there's something not quite right here...

"What are you seeing?" Jo asks, over his shoulder. The CSU team is busying themselves with collecting blood samples around the body, a poor jogger whose head was bashed against a cement wall. The team is far enough away that Jo and Henry can speak freely.

"It's nothing from the past." His fingers hover over the print. The treads have made an indentation in the dust, but even more than that, they've made an indentation in the pavement itself. As if these boots were worn by someone extremely heavy. And yet... "I'm not sure we're even dealing with something from the present."

Jo doesn't ask what he means. She crouches beside him, and immediately frowns, a mirror image of his own expression. "It's like this was wet cement... but these canals have been here for years."

Henry points to the wall. "Notice all the damage, in multiple places. There's no blood, no weapon casings, just different sized holes."

"Is that a... handprint?" Jo asks. She gets closer. "Almost _burned_ into the cement?"

Henry rises, brushing off his trousers. "I believe so. At least a partial one."

Henry shakes his head in true amazement. In his 235 years of life, he's seen just about everything. But never this. If he's right...

"You have a theory," Jo says, lowering her voice. She's become quite attuned to his process over the past year.

"Indeed. We're not looking for an ordinary mugger, my dearest detective. We're looking for someone with—"

* * *

“Superpowers?” Lieutenant Reece’s eyebrow rises higher than usual, but only a fraction. 

"It is the most likely explanation. With the explosion of—what are they calling them in Central City these days? Oh, yes, 'metahumans'—I think we must consider the possibility. I'm frankly surprised that we've not seen one here before."

"A person with extraordinary abilities, here in New York?" Reece leans back in her chair, steepling her hands in thought.

Jo gives Henry the barest of sidelong glances. "Hard to imagine, huh?"

Henry gives a noncommittal nod, and continues. "Furthermore, I believe we are dealing with more than one. Perhaps our jogger was simply caught in the crossfire between two of these metahumans. The damage to the concrete on both the walls and the pavement seem to suggest more than one."

Jo turns to him with surprise. He should have told her of his thoughts before, but he still gets a small thrill out of keeping her slightly off-guard. And in impressing her, he must admit.

"Lieutenant, do you have any contacts in the Central City Police Department?" Henry asks. "Star City? They've had to quickly adapt to the presence of metahumans in their cities."

"Why not Metropolis?" Jo asks. "Or National City?"

"Metropolis and National City's heroes are a little different—alien rather than metahuman."

"And you're sure that our assailants weren't alien?" Jo asks, head tilted in challenge.

She's right. Of course they could be. Henry feels a slow grin spreading on his face. Jo can still surprise _him_ , too. By the upturned corner of her mouth, he knows she enjoys it just as much as he does.

* * *

"Why are we here again?" Jo pushes through the doors just behind him. "I mean, before first checking in with National City PD?" They’d checked in with Star City PD, Central City PD, Metropolis PD—all to share info on the NYPD’s mystery suspects. Their search had come up empty thus far. So why were skipping the police this time?

"Because this—" Henry gestures around at tastefully-decorated lobby of CatCo Worldwide Media. "—is where we are going to find our answers."

"A print rag?" Jo frowns as if she's smelled something rank. "Or worse—" She gestures at the TV screens and the running scroll beneath. "—clickbait."

Henry understands her distaste. New York is far from the news media mecca it once was, the few remaining papers more interested in sensationalism than substance. Lately, he's been reminded of the days of muckraking, instead of the later golden years of the 20th century. However, despite its appearance, this news organization has uncovered a few hidden gems of truth. "I spent much of the journey reading up on National City, since I haven't visited in a number of years."

"You bring your horse and buggy here?" she teases.

"More like my Ford Fairlane," he shoots back. "But things have changed quite a bit nonetheless." He presses the up button on the elevator before continuing. "What I found was that CatCo Media has the most up-to-date information on their newest alien visitor, much like The Daily Planet with Superman. Lieutenant Reece's contacts here would do well to keep a closer eye on their media."

"Can't wait to see how she responds to that advice," Jo murmurs, but then the doors are opening before he can respond.

They walk into a scene of controlled chaos. Barely controlled. People are rushing about, or shouting across the room to each other. There's a crowd gathering at the far end of the room around a glass-encased office. Its entire wall seems to be composed of television screens. And all feature Henry and Jo's subject of interest: Supergirl.

The camera follows her as she fights an adversary high above the cityscape, though it's difficult to make out whom. She's flying so fast the cameras can barely track her. Then she—and her enemy—are gone.

The hubbub increases, but one female voice cuts through the chatter. "Find out what happened, pronto!" The gathered group scatters, leaving an authoritative woman in the center.

"Cat Grant," Henry says, pointing her out to Jo. "We must speak with—"

Suddenly he finds himself tumbling to the floor, hissing at the flaring pain of very hot coffee scalding his trousers. "Oh no!" a young woman cries out. "I'm so sorry! I was in such a hurry, and I didn't see you there..."

He stands slowly, carefully, Jo helping him to his feet. He's not that hurt—he's been hurt far worse than being scalded with coffee. "I'm fine, miss. You need not trouble yourself about it."

The young woman, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, adjusts her glasses nervously. "'Need not trouble myself'—oh my goodness, you sound like you come right out of a book." Her hands flutter and she tries to press some napkins into his hands. "Listen to me, I'm just going to shut up now. But, uh! Uh, not before helping you. What did you need?"

He likes her. She has that sort of awkward but good-hearted personality that his assistant Lucas has. Lucas has spilled his share of liquids in the morgue, most worse than coffee.

Jo is smirking now—she steps in smoothly. "We're here to see Cat Grant."

"Ms. Grant?" The young woman looks the two of them up and down and then her eyes widen in alarm. "The police want to see her?"

Henry and Jo exchange a look of surprise. Jo's badge is tucked into her pants pocket, and Henry isn't wearing any identification. "Just for information, Miss..."

"Danvers. Kara Danvers." She looks relieved. "I'll take you to her, I just need a second to let her know you're here..."

"How did she know we're police?" Jo asks quietly.

"Not sure. Perhaps she picked up on your mannerisms or tone of voice?"

"Whatever the reason, she's perceptive. She might be a good interview candidate after we talk to Cat Grant." 

They watch Kara for a minute, her back to them as she tries to get the attention of her boss. Ms. Grant hardly acknowledges Kara, waving her off dismissively. Then Ms. Grant stops, looks up and her gaze lands squarely on Henry and Jo.

"Looks like we're in," Jo says.

Kara rushes back to them a moment later, hands thankfully free of spillable items. "Miss Grant will see you."

Ms. Grant's dismissive air is completely gone when she greets them. "How can I help? It's not often that detectives come all the way from New York to see me. Or at all."

They never mentioned where they were from either. By Jo's glance, he knows she picked up on that, too. "Thank you for seeing us." Jo shakes Ms. Grant's hand. "We have a few questions about your resident superhero."

"Supergirl?" Kara asks, hovering at the entrance to the office.

"Yes," Henry says, taking a seat across from Ms. Grant. "If it's not too much trouble."

"Well, you've come to the right person. CatCo Media is the foremost authority on all things Supergirl." She gives Kara an annoyed glance. "What are you still doing here, Miss Danvers? And where is my coffee?"

Kara's eyes cut to Henry and his soiled pants. "It's—I'm—I'll be back!"

"Ms. Grant," Henry says with a deferential nod, "I have been very impressed with your coverage of Supergirl and her ongoing efforts to protect National City."

"Thank you," she says, unsurprised.

"Have you seen other persons with extraordinary abilities in your city?"

She steeples her hands. "Like Superman? He’s visited the city, but not often."

"Actually, I meant possible hostiles—threats that Supergirl has had to contain."

"Hmm," Ms. Grant says, her brow creasing. She pretends to look through files on her computer, but he knows her answer before she speaks it aloud. "CatCo Media has covered her entire career so far—I assume you’ve done your research, or you wouldn’t be here."

"Quite." Henry is almost certain that she's telling the truth. "I had hoped you could give us some new information, something not published yet. It seems we've had not one but two superpowered visitors to New York City this week."

Ms. Grant sits up rod-straight. "You have? I didn't see—"

"We've kept it out of the press," Jo explains.

"But you saw them? Two of them?" Ms. Grant's hands hover over her keys, ready for the scoop.

"Not exactly." Behind him, Kara returns, coffee in hand. He waits for her to place the coffee on the desk and step back before he continues. "We only saw the evidence they left behind."

"Evidence?" Kara's face is worried and tense, more than merely curious.

"A couple superpowered beings play rough and tumble in an old sewer bed, they're gonna leave evidence," Jo says. "Handprints, bootprints—embedded into the concrete, no less."

"Oh," Kara says quietly.

"We might never have known, except that a jogger was caught in the crossfire, so to speak." Henry sighs; it's never easy to accept the loss of innocent life.

Kara makes a sound of distress, her hands flying to her mouth.

Ms. Grant, on the other hand, doesn't seem so affected. "A terrible thing, and I'm sorry to hear it. But if you've been visited by a pair of fighting super-psychopaths, they're not from around here." She rises and holds out a card. "If you do find them, I'd love a heads up before the New York Times."

Jo takes it, slipping it into the jacket pocket Henry knows is for junk. "Thanks for your time."

They walk back toward the elevators. Jo presses the down button with a jab. "A dead end."

Henry glances behind him, where Kara is trailing at a distance, watching them go. "Perhaps not."

* * *

It doesn't take long—they don't even make it to the train station. A sudden darkening of the bright noonday sun and Henry finds himself looking up at the silhouette of a hovering Supergirl. Jo starts, but recovers quickly.

"I heard you need information," Supergirl says without preamble.

"I believe you mean 'overheard'," Henry says. There's no reason to beat around the bush.

She pauses, her hair floating around her like a halo. He can see how she fools so many people when her superhero guise is so angelic. "I do have enhanced hearing, like my cousin, yes. It has served me well so far."

"Especially when you've been sent on a coffee run, I'd imagine."

Jo stifles a little gasp, realizing what Henry had suspected before they left CatCo Worldwide Media. "You're—"

Suddenly there's a whirl of color and sound and wind and they're at the back of an alley far from the busy street. Supergirl—Kara—is no longer hovering, she's standing in front of them, wringing her hands. "How did you know?"

"There were a number of tells—you knew we were with the NYPD without telling you, your reaction to the news of the jogger..."

Instead of threatening or begging, her face contorts in despair. "Someone was really... killed? I was sure there was no one around when we were fighting. I can hear heartbeats, and I've tried to be so careful, but I had to stop him—New York City is so big, I couldn't let him terrorize millions of people..."

Henry's heart sinks for her. She is more concerned with protecting people than protecting her own secret. He can sympathize; he's made the same call over and over.

She steps forward holding her wrists out. "Take me in. If someone died because of me, I have to answer for it."

Jo and Henry exchange another look; it's becoming something of a pattern. "Such formalities are not necessary," Henry says gently. "Surely ordinary handcuffs would not hold you?" 

"Yes, you're right, but..." She gives them an embarrassed grimace. "It feels like the right thing to do."

"We didn't come from New York by car," Jo tells her with aplomb. She's clearly getting used to strange situations. "And I don't have any jurisdiction here to arrest you." 

"I could meet you there..." She rises a few feet into the air. "...or take you back myself?"

* * *

Jo's hair is a wind-blown tangle, and his lovely silk purple paisley scarf is now gone forever somewhere, but even if he lives to be 235,000 years old, Henry will never forget the way it felt to fly through the air. Kara sets them down on the roof of the precinct, as Jo suggested. There'll be enough chaos as it is when she walks into the precinct in her bright red and blue uniform. No sense in making it worse by coming in the front doors.

She lets Henry and Jo compose themselves, waiting patiently with her wrists held out again. Jo tucks her hair behind her ears, and shakes her head. "There's no need. You've come in voluntarily. Just walk between us."

Kara opens her mouth as if to argue but then she nods. She walks with them, eyes focused on her shiny red boots. At this moment, she looks more like the coffee-spilling assistant they'd first met, just wearing a Halloween costume. However, the moment they enter the precinct, her chin lifts and she straightens her shoulders. Her gait is proud and measured. She draws a few curious glances and then people begin to stand, murmuring. By the time they reach the interrogation room, the hubbub is loud enough that it shuts off with a snap when the door closes behind them.

It briefly flares again when Hanson slips in. He leans down to whisper in Jo's ear and she nods, shooing him off. Hanson dances his way out of the room, pointing surreptitiously to the two-way glass. Henry thinks about warning him—two-way glass isn't much use against an alien that can see through almost anything—but he's gone too quickly.

Jo presses record on the device in the center of the table. "State your name, please."

She gives Henry a worried look but he nods reassuringly. "Kara Zor-El," she answers. "Or Supergirl."

"Tell us about that night," Jo asks. 

"It was one of the longest of my life," Kara says. "The fight had been going on for hours. First just outside of National City, then on land, sea, air... I'd been able to keep him away from populated areas most of the fight, but then he made a beeline for New York City."

"You keep saying 'he' and 'him,' Ms. Zor-El. Who were you fighting?"

She bites her lip and her fingers flex and unflex. "Someone with powers."

"From Krypton—?"

"—No" she says quickly. "I didn't—I didn't know his name, or where he was from. I heard—I saw... him melting the girders on a bridge with his bare hands. He was trying to bring it down."

"But you stopped him." Henry lowers his voice. "What happened to him?"

Kara swallows. "He's now in custody."

Jo and Henry frown in unison—they'd already consulted with National City PD on this very case. They had no superpowered beings in custody. "He is?"

"Yes." She folds her hands apologetically. "I can't say where. But you're safe from him now."

There's a knock at the door and before anyone can answer, Lucas slips in. "Hey, Dr. Morgan, can I talk to you for a minute? The lab—" He takes a look at Kara, one he probably thinks is nonchalant, and then staggers a step backward. "Oh my god, it really _is_ her! I've been following the news about you, I was even planning a trip to National City next weekend to see if I could catch a glimpse in the sky, but you're right here in my own police station! I mean, the guys were talking, but I thought, no way, it has to be a cosplayer—"

"—Lucas!" Henry breaks into Lucas's fanboying impatiently. 

"Oh, yeah! I'm so sorry, it's just—" He clears his throat. "It'll be just a minute," he apologizes—to Kara, not really Henry and Jo. 

Henry excuses himself and follows Lucas into the hallway. "The lab, what?" It had better be only a minute. This is one of the most fascinating cases he's had thus far.

"The lab came back with DNA results on our victim's attacker. You know, the one that you thought might be superpowered?" His eyes widen in realization, and he stage-whispers, "Is Supergirl being charged?" Then he shakes his head ruefully. "Why did I whisper? She can hear the whole conversation."

"Indeed. She is being questioned so far. It's too early to say whether she will be charged."

He sighs with relief. "Oh, good. Because you can’t charge her. I mean, you shouldn’t. The DNA results are human. Human with extra markers and mutations, but definitely human."

"Not Kryptonian? Interesting. And I must say..." Henry sags a little. "...I'm just as relieved as you are."

"Yeah, if she's not a suspect, maybe she can give me an autograph! What do you—?"

Henry and Lucas's attention is caught by a trio of suited men and women, led by Lieutenant Reece. "Dr. Morgan," she nods toward him. "These agents are here to escort Supergirl from the premises." Her eyes are tight. She's not happy about it, but she has her duty.

Henry looks them over. They're not FBI, not CIA, not NSA, not Homeland Security... he's had enough encounters with all of those agencies and these agents do not quite fit the norm. "Agents of what?"

The woman of the trio steps forward. "None of your concern, Doctor. Just know it's a matter of national security."

"And interplanetary security, I bet," Lucas murmurs.

The agent goes into the interrogation room and a moment later, Jo steps out, leaving the two in the room behind her. "What's going on?" she asks Henry.

"The Government is taking over."

"I was silently counting the minutes. If she hadn't flown us here, I bet they would have been waiting for us."

Henry looks at her in surprised admiration. "Well spotted, Detective."

Suddenly they both can hear raised voices from behind the door. Not enough to make out what is being said, just the ferocity of the words being thrown about.

"They must know each other," Jo says.

"Well," Lucas agrees. "Supergirl's handler?"

"Probably." Henry mulls for a moment. "But the tone—it's almost as if they are related." 

"Related? Is there another cousin—?"

The door opens then, cutting off further speculation. The agent walks out, Supergirl trailing her. The two have very similar bearing, but just a quick glance at the aging patterns on the agent's skin classifies her as human, not alien. The bearing is probably due to years of living together—perhaps Kara was adopted? Abe and Henry share quite a number of mannerisms.

The agent turns to them and gives them a curt, professional nod. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time." Kara seems torn between rebellion and shame. The agent faces her. "If you would please follow me, Supergirl?"

As she walks past them to the exit doors, her cape brushes Lucas' arm. "I'll never wash it," he whispers.

* * *

When Kara appears at his roof terrace that night, Henry isn't surprised. "I won't tell, you know." He takes a sip of his tea. It’s quite lovely out this evening. 

She floats downward to touchdown lightly on the tiles. "I've been warned that 'too many people know' already."

"By your adoptive sister?"

Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times. "How—? Are you like, secretly Sherlock Holmes or something?"

"Something like that. But better—I'm not fictional."

She chuckles. "I don't know how you figured it out—any of it—or why you won't tell. But thank you."

"I have lots of practice keeping secrets, Miss Zor-El." He raises his cup toward her. "Do you have time for a cup of tea?"

She pulls out a chair beside him and sits, letting her cape flow behind her. "That sounds lovely." She reaches out a hand to touch his arm, asking quietly, “And maybe you could tell me a little bit about the victim’s family?”

His heart pangs for her—even though the death was not her fault, she’s so new at this that she can’t help but feel responsible. He remembers what that’s like. Actually, he’s continually reminded, case by case.

Henry nods. “Of course, my dear. But just a moment.” Time to put another kettle on—he’s sure Abe won’t mind.


End file.
